Kermit Griffin stepped carefully down the hall, only betraying his movements by soft crunches of plush carpeting. Senses attuned and ready for any sound foreign to the suburban scene, the misplaced man took in his surroundings. He found it comical, surveying the furnishings stuffed with comfort, that anyone would entertain the notion that THE Kermit Griffin could be made to believe he was king of this castle.

Sunshine spilled in through sparkling clean windows, casting the glow of morning over the room. Seeking out his prey, Kermit moved around a large floral sofa and stepped over a bright green stuffed frog on his way to the kitchen.

<Okay, Savannah Griffin,> he mused as he caught sight of the petite deceiver, <let's see how good your game is.> Still wearing the soft pink robe, she stood at the counter holding onto an enormous bowl against the haphazard strokes of a giggling toddler.

"Me makin' panty cakes!" the little dark haired girl sang in a nearly indecipherable language. "Paaaaaanty cakes! Paaaanty cakes!"

The woman was laughing. Kermit looked at the child and couldn't stop the smile that softened his features. She was innocence and light and joy -- and dragged into a twisted lie by the woman standing beside her. The brief pleasure he'd felt melted away at the thought. Whatever her motive was, this blonde liar had built her plot around a baby, putting a child in danger. Unforgivable.

Making the first move, Kermit cleared his throat and leaned against the wallpaper that was littered with more of those ridiculous flowers. "Morning. Just what are the Griffin ladies up to?" Fighting the anger, he selected a mask of congenial coercion from his extensive repertoire.

Savannah never turned to face him, only babbled in a conspiratorial fashion to the little girl. "Well, looks like our lazy daddy decided to get up."

Bright green eyes suddenly snapped from her batter-slinging game and the child focused on the detective. At first, the eyes were glittering with anticipation. Tiny dimples pierced round pink cheeks as she grinned, briefly.

In an attempt at play, Kermit lowered his shades down his nose and winked. The pat child-handling response garnered him nothing. Baby eyes locked with his own as welcome dribbled away from the tiny features. The look was curious at first, then rearranged the emotion into distrust.

"Wan my dada!" The child released her hold on the spoon and attached herself to a pink chenille sleeve.

Kermit knew that look. It was fear and doubt.

"Sure, Kitty Kat." Savannah plunked the little girl down from the counter. "Go get some morning sugar." The woman returned to preparing breakfast as Kermit endured the scrutiny of a two-footer.

Dressed in a frothy blue nightgown, the tiny inspector stomped her way over the shiny white tile. Little mouth drawn into a pout and dark eyebrows knitted together in deep thought, the child walked over to stare up at the curious man in the dark suit. Miniature fists rooted themselves to her pudgy waist and she glared up at him with blatant challenge.

The little curly head barely came to his knee. Moving fingers down to graze the unruly dark hair, Kermit met full-blown fury as the child's eyes narrowed and she backed away.

"Wan...my...dada!!" Each word was punctuated by the stomp of a tiny bare foot. <One pawn they can't twist, huh, kid?> he thought, as she returned to tug on Savannah's leg.

"Well, Kat, just go get him." Abandoning the cooking, she crouched beside the frustrated child.

Watching the little girl's building confusing, Kermit went down on one knee. This was getting tense and tension was dangerous. The game had to continue for a while and this kid was stuck in the middle. "Come on, Kitty Kat," he crooned, filing away what sounded like a nickname. "How 'bout a kiss?"

Her steps hesitated, starting and stopping across the floor. Kat made her way carefully to his waiting arms. Savannah watched with a pretense of concern painting her face. Kat climbed into his arms with less trepidation than before. Clinging to his sleeve for support, the little girl never took her eyes from his face.

Kermit tried to smile, tried to relieve her tension. Holding her close, he rose to his full height. She smelled so sweet, untouched, looking up at him knowing a lie when she saw one.

"It's okay, kid. You don't have to kiss anybody you don't want to. Not ever." Kermit watched diminutive features relax slightly. Not quite acceptance but not quite the furious distrust of moments earlier. "My goodness," Savannah shrugged and went back to her task, "somebody's in an odd mood." She stooped to drag a heavy black skillet from under the cabinet and guide it onto the stove with both hands. "Go have a seat. Kat's 'panty cakes' will be ready for y'all in a minute."

Time to play the next card and see if he was a hostage. "Sorry, Sweetcakes," he resorted to the familiar female tease he often used, "I have to be going."

"Oh," she flipped the twisted mane of sun-colored hair over her shoulder, "I didn't know you were in such a big hurry." The eyes flashed a sliver of annoyance that lasted only seconds, emerald eyes that were a perfect match to the smaller pair.

He waited, tensing for the manipulation or reinforcements.

A warm smile decorated the woman's gentle pink lips. "Okay, sugar." She swayed over to take the baby from his arms. "We'll see you tonight."

Counter move. "Sure, just like every night."

He didn't want to turn the baby over to her. Whatever game was being assembled was using a child as a pawn. If he left, he might never see her again. Weighing the options carefully, he relented. Passing the still wary child back to the woman, he played through.

The little girl's body relaxed visibly as the exchange took place. She was comfortable and snuggled her arms around the woman's neck. Maybe this woman really was her mother. Emotions that intense were difficult to fabricate.

<Okay, I'm a husband. One short one.> Kermit left a quick kiss on his 'wife's' cheek. "You two have a good day."

She looked back at him with a depth of emotion he'd only seen in one other pair of eyes. A smoldering, loving rage of feeling swirled in the green eyes that sparkled up from her petite height. "Love you. Be safe."

The words had the feeling of a blessing as well as a plea. "Love you, too," he answered with a pretentious echo.

He could back out the door. Too unnatural. Giving his adversary an open shot as he left wasn't an attractive option either. Before he could formulate a plan, Savannah simply went back to the counter and her sing-song play with the toddler.

Taking the opening, Kermit moved swiftly out the door and to the welcome sight of the Corvair. Sliding behind the wheel, he mumbled, "At least they were kind enough to bring along the wheels. Details are everything in a scam." Pointing the car toward Jewel's place, he went in search of answers.

*****

The trio walked into the loft and Kermit took his first good look at the place. Hardwood floors, windows all along the far side of the large open room. It was multi-textured, warm and colorful, haphazard in a way that would have driven Savannah crazy. Yet, he could see where it might appeal to someone with really eclectic tastes. It didn't have the luxury, the ease of the home Savannah and he had made together. Whoever Jewel was, she wasn't a homemaker. A motion low to the floor caught his eye, and a little black cat came running, complaining at the top of her voice.

"Oh, Shade, sweetie", Jewel scooped the delicate animal up, "I forgot your breakfast. I'm sorry, baby-cat, c'mon, let's get you fed." She glanced over at Caine, who smiled at her, and she grinned back, a touch sheepishly. "Okay, she's a little spoiled, but her real patsy is Kermit, she.." Jewel stopped mid sentence, turned without another word and hurried into the tiny kitchen.

Kermit and Caine were examining the high bookshelves when she emerged, they tactfully ignored her freshly scrubbed face and bright eyes. "Do you run a bookstore or something like that?" Kermit asked, pulling out an encyclopedia of herbal properties. "You've pretty much cornered the market on New Age/witchy stuff here."

"I used to work as a consultant to the FBI, my field of expertise was ritual crime. When I left the field," and sharp eared Kermit heard the break in her voice, " I went into private investigations."

"YOU'RE a private eye?" his tone was incredulous and she bristled.

"You have a problem with that?"

Kermit set down the book and raised a hand in mock defense. "No, it's nothing personal, it's just a dirty, rough kind of job, and a dangerous one. Doesn't seem like something a girl like you would be interested in."

"Not quite something your wife would do, right? " then, not giving him time to answer, "You'd be surprised at what interests me, and while we're on the subject, take a good look around, okay? You will notice some unusual objects. I would like to state for the record that I am a pagan, I don't do curses, blood sacrifices, raise the dead or generally indulge in karma wrecking activity. I mention this only because I've had this out with you once, I don't intend to do it again, so if you're going to freak, get it over with." Jewel was challenging him now, her eyes held a dangerous spark, daring him to fight back.

Kermit glanced at the woman in front of him, scornfully, over his glasses, then shrugged. "Little girl, if you want to play 'Bewitched,' that is the least of my problems." His smile was mocking.

Furiously she opened her mouth to retort, and Caine stepped between them, asking Kermit to come with him, "and let Julia begin her research."

"Try to find me something to narrow this down, okay?" she asked, realizing what he was doing and feeling a bit relieved. Fighting with Kermit was nerve-wracking. Fighting with his patronizing twin was too damn easy.

"Umm, roof key is on the peg by the door, if you guys want it."

"Ah, an excellent idea. Kermit?" Caine agreed and the two men left.

Alone, Jewel sank down to the hearthstone of her fireplace and mentally kicked herself. "Will you cut the guy some slack already?" she scolded. "You're here in your home, your own life...without my own Kermit." Her heart ached, but she ruthlessly ignored it, promising herself to treat her accidental houseguest with more understanding. "Though it would be easier if he weren't such a ass!" she muttered rebelliously, then stood up and surveyed her bookshelves. She had a lot of work to do.

*****

The sun was hitting the top of the sheltered building as Caine and Kermit reached the roof. Lacking a real yard, or balconies, Jewel and her neighbors headed upstairs when they needed a little fresh air. There were two or three rusty hibachis scattered around, with a large metal can marked "ashes" by the roof door. Two long flower boxes held a surprising array of hardy crocuses and hyacinths, and it was here that the two men choose to sit. The wide concrete ledge was still cool, but the sun felt warm on their backs.

"Is she always like that?" It burst out before Kermit could censor his irritation with his erstwhile hostess.

Caine merely smiled. "Julia and Kermit are much alike in some ways. They each become angry when battling fear. Julia is deeply afraid and does not wish to display it before either of us."

Kermit sighed, "Caine, if that's a hint, I get it. And I will try to remember that this is hard on her too, but dammit, all I really care about is my family. I have got to get back to them, Savannah must be terrified. She'll protect Kat like a tigress but if he..."

"He will not harm your wife or your child." Caine gently reminded the agonized man before him. "You have had different experiences, but they have not been negative ones. Your wife...she has brought you great joy. Is this not true? You are a better man because she is in your life, because you are a father to your daughter?

"She and Kat ARE my life. How can he understand what they mean to me? I've been him, Caine, and he's still bedding down with tough girl, take care of myself, FBI types, he has no idea of the commitment I've made."

"Julia CAN take care of herself," the older man said quietly, " Kermit respects and loves her independence, as she respects his. They are both very private people, both wounded indifferent ways, but I have seen them together, and they depend upon one another. What you have seen is Julia proving a point to you that she no longer needs to prove to him. Do not be deceived by her 'tough girl' act."

"Okay, enough about her. What do we need to do here?" Kermit didn't want Jewel proving anything to him, and he didn't want her depending on him either. He wanted his own life back.

"Tell me of your day yesterday."
"The whole day?"
"From the time you awoke."
Kermit began.

*****

His brain was working on overdrive. Why was he allowed to leave? If this fake wife was trying to twist him into believing he was family man, surely coming in contact with his reality at the precinct would put a kink in the plan. Kermit drove through the city streets, tumbling the options over in his mind. Reporting the event to Simms and calling in back up would be proper procedure. Proper procedure rarely appealed to him. He turned toward Chinatown, rejecting that option.

First things first. Weaving through traffic, he drove toward home. Home. It was an odd way to think of Jewel's loft. Not orderly, not precise, the whole place was a laid back, un-thought out mix of stuff. Her stuff. The place he lived was in line, planned, nothing changed. Life was easier that way. His way. If all that were true, why in the hell was he beginning to think of her place as home?

Turning a corner lead him to the second shock of the morning. Jewel's appealing, disorderly loft was a littered, empty warehouse. Ragged posters of long ago events peeled from the walls. Plywood covered broken windows on the ground floor leaving the upper windows bare for the taking. Jewel's bedroom window had taken more hits than the rest. Sharp blades of glass hung like teeth where morning sun usually invaded their sleep. The entire structure had the dead feeling of abandonment.

The rude sound of a horn slapped against his senses. He had stopped dead in the street. Moving his vehicle out of the way, Kermit parked behind the building. In a daze, he left his car and wandered to an entrance. With little effort, he shoved the door open. The stairs were where they should be, only they were riddled with holes. Climbing the stairs was a pointless gesture. Nothing and no one lived here. The floor to Jewel's apartment had fallen through to the first floor. She wasn't here.

Finding himself back in the Corvair, Kermit fought through a new set of possibilities. People could be kidnapped easily but buildings weren't dilapidated and wrecked overnight. As he drove, other oddities leapt out at him. Businesses where there should be homes. A new mall that stretched across the street with a suspended walkway. His car found its way home only to find that home was a parking garage.

The headache, the nauseating disorientation of his first conscious moments hours before, returned full force. Think. He had to think this through. If the landscape had changed, it had changed in his absence. Absence. Perhaps he had been held for some time and was just now being brought back into the world.

His head began to clear with the reasoning. A logical explanation settled his thoughts. The few moments it took to reach the precinct passed in a blur. He had been missing. He would walk into the precinct and blow everything wide open. The irony of Kermit Griffin looking for backup wasn't lost on him as he found an empty slot in the parking lot. Handling situations alone was his strength, his way. Now, as his feet pounded toward the precinct entrance, all he wanted was for another person to give him validation.

Squeezing through the usual demanding crowd at the front desk, Kermit bounded into the sanctuary of hard metal desks and over-worked detectives. Mary Margaret leaned back in her chair, talking on the phone and twisting the cord in her left hand. Catching her eye, he stood still, waiting her response. Letting go of the cord, she merely wiggled her fingers in greeting then turned her attentions back to her conversation.

No shock. No surprise or change of focus. The pounding in his head drummed steadily against his temple. Mary Margaret's reaction, or lack thereof, sent him on an experimental walk around the room. No one else seemed to acknowledge his absence. Jody passed him with barely a nod, eyes still bleary at this early hour.

Karen. She would be the final test. Strolling over to her office, he found the door locked and the lights off. He felt lost, off balance. Resting a hand on the door, Kermit steadied himself as a million thoughts raged through his mind.

"Kermit!" Strenlich bellowed his name from across the room. Covering the distance between them with pounding strides, the Chief was beside him in seconds. His face portrayed its normal mixture of frustration and intimidation. "Where the hell have you been? Captain Simms was less than happy at not being able to rip you a new one so guess who was the recipient?!"

The angry words sliced ventilation space through Kermit's smothered brain. He looked up at the red-faced man, trying to cover his disorientation. "What?"

"Yeah, Kermit," Strenlich snapped, dropping a heavy file onto a nearby desk, "you had time to drop by the museum yesterday on your day off and piss off the curator but can't even show up on time when you're supposed to have your ass back at work. Now the curator complained to Simms that you nearly busted a two thousand year old piece of ivory and she couldn't complain to you so I'm stuck with the stress. A man my age and size doesn't need any more freakin' stress, Detective!"

Yesterday. There was a record of him existing here yesterday. The details of Frank Strenlich's rant were bypassing his cognition and being filed away for later dissection. All that registered was that he was here, yesterday. Frank just confirmed it. But he wasn't at a museum. And he damn sure wasn't missing or someone would have acknowledged it by now.

"Kermit! Are you tuning me out? That really chaps my--"

"Frank, what day is it?"

"Jesus H. Christ! Do I look like your dayplanner?" Frank turned to stomp away, then turned back, "You look like hell? What did you do yesterday besides cause a PR uproar?"

For a few seconds, he considered spilling the story of his awakening in a suburban bedroom, of a woman pretending to be his wife, of a child, of his missing girlfriend and of the city changing overnight. At the final second, with his mouth opening to begin the tale, instinct took control. Solitary methods would be the best choice at this point.

"Nothing," he answered, forcing calm to his rattled throat.

Frank examined him closely, eyebrows drawn together with concern. "Okay, well, if you've got work in the field, I'd take it and be scarce when Simms comes back. She was muttering your name when she left and that never means anything good. "

"Thanks, Chief." Kermit remained frozen to the spot as the surreal scenery played out around him. His guts twisted, tying his body into knots. All seemed normal but nothing was normal. A city had changed around him. Jewel was missing. He had woken up in a strange bed under some form of drug or mind control and there was only one person who could answer his questions.

With renewed purpose, Kermit left the building and set out on the next part of his quest.

*****

As the Shaolin listened, his heart ached for the man before him. It was painfully obvious that this Kermit Griffin lived for his family, for his wife whom he described in great detail, for the toddler he lovingly called Kitty-Kat. His face changed when he spoke of having breakfast the morning before with them, he smiled warmly, actually laughing when describing Kat eating her waffles with toothpicks.

"She was just fixated on the idea, and I convinced Savannah to let her try. I mean, that's what bibs and washing machines are for, right? They were the round tips, really blunt, and I don't even know where she came up with it, but she carefully puts a toothpick in each piece, then begins scooping them up, splattering butter and syrup everywhere, smearing it in her hair and on her face.

I couldn't help laughing and she just laughed too and kept eating. You should hear her laugh, Caine, like bells chiming, so pure and sweet. When Savannah saw the mess we had made, I thought she'd lay into me good, she's got a temper when you get her just right and she hates a mess."

His face was alight with the memory, cherishing the vision behind his dark glasses, "But we must have looked too funny, and she came over and started laughing too, like music. The sun was thick and gold on her hair, in her pink robe..." Kermit abruptly shut down, his face hardening. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

"It is bringing you comfort, Kermit. Surely that is of value."

"I'm a bottom line kind of guy, Caine, I'm not into relating, bonding, or manly primal screams in the woods."

Caine shrugged. "We are not...in the woods."

Kermit looked over his glasses, and shook his head. "All right. After breakfast, I headed out to work."

He walked Caine through his day, not a terribly exciting one, his first day off in two weeks. The morning had been spent driving around town with his daughter, a trip to the bakery and his private gunsmith. In the afternoon, he had checked security on a new exhibit at the museum, "some kind of ivory collection, little sculptures. Those eggheads had them set out to the very edge of the velvet, I had to reposition them before running the laser guard around it."

"You...touched one?"

"I touched most of 'em, and " a deep chuckle, "you should have heard the curator yell. It was classic. I was tempted to pretend to drop one, but I didn't want to give the guy CPR."

"This may be the source. If you will tell Jewel to narrow her search to those small items, I will attempt to lock on to any residue that may be clinging to you." Kermit sat a moment longer, and Caine looked at him levelly. "I will need solitude for this. She will not...bite you."

"Yeah, well, if you're wrong, you're paying for a new suit." Kermit grumbled, but he rose and left the roof. Caine indulged in a quiet chuckle, then withdrew into himself, seeking a trace of something, anything, that would indicate how this had happened.

**********

Kermit tapped lightly at the last door, then tried the handle. It turned in his hand and the door opened. "You should really keep this locked," he said, with both a cop and a mercenary's disapproval, "Anyone could have walked in."

The woman was at a computer desk in the corner of the open room, books piled on the floor and window seat all around her. He saw her back stiffen under the thin jersey as he spoke, but her answer was mild enough.

"You're right, I should. Any info?"

He filled Jewel in on Caine's statuette theory, and she dutifully plugged it into her search program. "Ivory, probably not Native American or European magic. I'm thinking Africa, or the Far East is more likely. That eliminates about two thirds of these." and she rose, scooping up an armful of books as she did so. She hadn't looked at him once since he came in.

"Give you a hand with those?" Kermit asked, and she shook her head.

"No, thank you. I'm so used to my system, it's easier to reshelf them myself than to explain it to someone else." And she did slide them quickly back into place, almost without looking, and went back for another stack.

Kermit wandered awkwardly around the living room, finally coming to rest at the computer station. He sat down in the battered armless chair she used, and ran appreciative fingers over her keyboard.

"Nice set up." He complimented her, and she turned away from the shelves, a heavy volume on Colonial magic slamming to the floor.

"What? Oh...yes, it's a good one. Custom built, and Kermit's been tweaking it for me." Blindly, Jewel bent to pick up the dropped book, grateful to have a reason to turn away. The sight of him there, Kermit and not Kermit, this wasn't something to which she could easily, or quickly, adjust.

The little black cat came around the desk, sniffing at his trouser leg. Kermit held perfectly still, glad to have something to watch and not wanting to scare the animal. He'd seen how much the woman cared for it, and he was making a sincere effort not to spark another fight. It backed away, then circled back, sniffed some more, then sat and stared up at him. Feeling like an imposter, he tapped his knee in what he thought was a cat person's welcome. Shade took it as such, and gracefully leapt up to join him. Her soft "mrr" as she rubbed her sleek little head against his hand alerted Jewel.

"I think she likes you." Kermit heard a touch of genuine smile in her voice. Gently, he caressed the plush black velvet coat, was rewarded with more head butting and a louder purr. For such a tiny animal, Shade had a tremendous rumble. He felt Jewel moving to his side before he saw her.

"I bought my daughter a dog for her first Christmas," he said, stroking the animal gently. "Well, Santa bought it."

"Santa, huh?" Jewel looked at him curiously. She wanted to know more and yet she didn't want to know about this man's family. "Let me guess. Santa brought a Doberman, German Shepherd, maybe?"

"A Yorky."

The laughter was brief and stifled, as if she was afraid to lighten the mood. "You gotta be kidding? You've always said those dogs belonged between two slices of bread."

"I never want her dog to be bigger than she is," he answered, looking absently at the cat as he stroked her back. "At her age, it limits my choices."

The affection in his voice for his child, the protective nature displayed in every word, was at once touching and unsettling. Focusing on the pet in the man's lap, she turned the conversation back to her world, her Kermit.

"She really loves Kermit." the woman told him quietly, and surprised him when she knelt next to the chair, tenderly leaning in to the cat. A raspy little tongue touched her cheek and she laughed, sitting back on her heels. "He gave her to me, after the case we worked on was over. He found her at the shelter and brought her over one night."

"Good thing you wanted a cat," the man remarked, rubbing one large finger under the minuscule furry chin. Shade rumbled louder, closing her green eyes in delight.

"I love cats, but I hadn't thought that much about getting one. I hadn't lived here very long. Shade was so little and perfect, and Kermit even brought dishes and food for her and I knew he'd come back to see her. I also knew he'd brought her so that he could come back and see her."

"Love at first sight, then?"

"How could I help it? She's such an adorable kitty, and so sweet." Jewel smiled and leaned in again, careless of the red plait brushing his thigh, to kiss her pet between the ears. Shade didn't seem to mind.

"I meant you and Kermit."

Startled indigo gaze looking up at him. "Me and Kermit?" she laughed, but it was short, a little harsh. "Not quite. We...well...we had some conflicts."

"Like what?" He was surprised when she suddenly rose to her feet, brushing at her jeans.

"Religious differences. Look, if you'll keep an eye on this, I'll start going through the rest of these. I know them pretty well, it shouldn't take too long." And she scooped up the remaining books, along with a black and white composition book, and settled into a corner of the large couch without another word.

Kermit watched her from behind his glasses, but she didn't turn around, or react to him again in any way. He looked down at the little cat, comfortable in his lap. "What did I say now?" he asked. Shade simply purred and kneaded his leg a little more.

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